


A Mind Elsewhere

by Quitebrilliantindeed



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Conversations, Developing Relationship, Lunch Dates, M/M, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 13:10:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quitebrilliantindeed/pseuds/Quitebrilliantindeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something is nagging at Julian. Takes place right after "The Search, Part II"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mind Elsewhere

“Have you been feeling okay lately?” Under any normal circumstances, Julian wouldn’t have tried such a direct approach on his target, but in all the chaos of the past forty-eight hours, he couldn’t find the heart to play the runaround today.

“Why of course, my dear doctor, I’m perfectly healthy,” Garak narrowed his eyes. “What would ever make you ask? I assure you, I’ve had no trouble since our last little… _adventure_ in medicine.”

Julian didn’t want to play the runaround—but that didn’t mean Garak held the same feelings. Garak always played the runaround.

“Oh no, no reason.” Julian shrugged and stabbed at his food in a vain attempt to cut the thread of that conversation short.

“Mmmm, I see.” A pause followed. Julian stabbed the coleslaw a bit more intensely, silently rejoicing that they were back to the usual Earth-style fare, instead of last week’s delightful meal of live _gagh_. ‘We must experiment some,’ Garak had urged.  ‘Eating the same food again and again leaves no room for exploration, wouldn’t you agree?’ Julian was beginning to find that he more or less _had_ to agree when it came to Garak. Or rather, he couldn’t find himself able to say ‘no’ to most of his requests these days.

Sensing that Garak’s gaze was now firmly fixed on the top of his head, Julian flicked his eyes up at him. “What?” He frowned. “You don’t believe a word of it, do you?”

That nasty little coy smile of Garak’s slipped to his lips. “Oh, surely you didn’t except anything different? You are a _terrible_ liar, I’m afraid, and when combined with my own fine intuition…”

“Yes, yes, I know. Cut me a little slack…” He returned his attention to his food. Food was much easier than trying his hand at distracting Garak.

“So then—what’s bothering you, doctor?”

It was a tempting thought, to continue denying that he had ever made such an inquiry, give a quick ‘nothing!’ and try to move on… but also a fruitless one. Given the persistence of his company, Julian had long-since abandoned any alternative routes of conversation.

“I…” Julian set his fork down on the half-empty plate, and brought his hands together as he composed his thoughts. “I told you what happened in the Gamma Quadrant, yes?”

“Yes.”

Julian nodded once. “Right then. You were in that simulation, actually.”

“Was I now?”

“You actually helped us—all of us, I mean, not just me. You helped Sisko and the whole lot out of the kindness of your heart!”

Garak chuckled at the sound of this. If it was disappointed or good-natured, Julian had not a clue. “That surprised you? I’m a bit hurt, I must say.” He leaned in across the table, so close to Julian’s side that their noses quite nearly touched.  “Unless…I turned out to be a _spy_ in this little exercise? Betrayed you all, perhaps?”

“No!” Julian playfully shoved his face away. A passing thought reminded him that but a few weeks ago, he would have taken that silly little jibe a lot more seriously. Was he getting soft? “That’s not the point. Stop interrupting!” Garak raised his hands in surrender.

“By all means, carry on!”

“I will…” Julian cleared his throat, and with one long breath, let it out: “You actually… died in the simulation. You shot two of the Jem’Hadar, before getting shot yourself.” He brought his gaze down and his hands limply to his lap. The café suddenly seemed to be humming and buzzing with noise and chatter—Julian usually found it pleasant, but it had somehow turned obnoxious to his ears.

“Oh.”

_‘Oh?_ ’That was to be Garak’s response? Garak, who had a word and a half for every story, opinion, and news piece in the Alpha Quadrant and beyond? Who lectured him about anything from film and literature, to martial arts and the finer points of sewing on a sleeve? Julian couldn’t help but feel a little bit cheated.

“Uh, well, yes. Yes. That’s all.” He mumbled hurriedly, stabbing the last bit of coleslaw with a violent flourish and popping it into his mouth. Chewing gave him enough time to gather his courage and take a closer look at Garak’s reaction.

He wasn’t looking at Julian—or anything really—but he had a strange half-smile on his face and his head had fallen to a slight tilt. He looked rather docile—well, more docile than usual. Well—as docile as a Cardassian could look. Even when said Cardassian was dressed in bright pink and yellow.

“…Garak?”

“Ah, yes! Sorry, I was… lost in thought for a moment. You must excuse my rudeness.”

“Of—of course.” Julian furrowed his brow, trying to deduce any more information out of his friend’s strange expression. (And wondering if perhaps, Garak knew more about that subject too. He probably did.)

“Doctor,” Garak began, shaking him out of it. “Are you concerned about my safety on account of a simulated incident?”

When he put it like that— “No!” Julian nearly shouted. “Actually—I— Yes. Okay. That’s it.” If there was truly no hope left in running, he might as well face it head-on.

“Ah.” Julian couldn’t read the (again, shockingly small) response—was it pleased? Or… confused? Or just plain chiding?

His brain latched onto the last one: “Well, yeah, it’s _stupid_ , I know, but the whole thing was just so… jarring. Can you imagine this for a second? What this was? It was just a _little bit_ jarring for me to watch as you went so far for us, only to get shot down while we hurried on, leaving your cold and dead _body_ , behind!”

“Doctor.” Garak’s hand had come to rest firmly on his arm, pulling him back to his companionship and the noisy little café. “There’s no need to make excuses,” Julian nodded blankly, numbed by his own short outburst. “Fear and shock are odd creatures, and I am afraid they are far above us in our measly little food chain. Yes?”

“…Yes.”  Julian swallowed. He wasn’t sure what surprised him more, that the simulation lingered with him even now, or the one subject in those events that bothered him above all else.

Garak probably noticed, but he was as comfortingly indecipherable as ever: “You have much better things to occupy your time with than a funny old Cardassian,” he whispered with an incline of the head. “Besides, I sincerely doubt I would be running into the line of phaser fire anytime soon. I’d think I’m fairly safe in my modest little tailoring shop. Or at least, I would _like_ to think that.” The last portion of that sentence was a bit too ominous for Julian’s current tastes, but if he had learned anything from Garak…

“Tailor, my ass…” Julian mumbled, gripping the hand at his shoulder. “You better make that a promise.”

“I make no promises, darling.”

“Ahh. I should have figured.”


End file.
